A dream, likely, thought Duncan. Well, there was only one way to test it.
He walked to the fireplace.
He placed his hand against the metal rim and tried to move it. It seemed solid enough. He yanked at it and attempted to push it up and down. Suddenly it yielded as his hand was going upward. There was a sharp click from the floor — a click that he recalled.
He looked at the hearth. One of the stones had swung upward on a hinge, impelled by a concealed spring. There in the masonry was a neatly formed opening, beneath it a small cavity that gaped with emptiness.
CHAPTER II. WORD FROM THE DEAD
There was a knock at the door the next morning. Duncan opened the door and admitted Abdul, his Hindu servant. The man was carrying a breakfast tray.
"It was time for you to awake, sahib. I have brought breakfast."
"Abdul," asked Duncan, as he began his meal, "did you hear any one outside last night?"
"No, sahib. At what time of the night?"
"I don't know. Didn't you hear a whistle?"